


And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me..

by JoyfullyyoursDav



Series: Never Let Me Go (Twins' Mom AU series) [7]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Astral Projection, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Grim Reapers, Light Angst, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Mild Blood, Motherhood, Near Death, Necromancy, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyfullyyoursDav/pseuds/JoyfullyyoursDav
Summary: Leema, the mother of Taako and Lup, delves deep into necromancy as a last-ditch effort to find the twins. She's willing to give up her soul on this journey, but will Death be willing to trade?





	And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me..

**Author's Note:**

> HACHI MATCHI, HI.  
> This is part 7 of the Taaco Twins' Mom series. And it's kinda a doozy. Hope you like it!
> 
> Title is from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machines.

Leema, mother of lost twins, read every book on necromantic rituals that she could get her hands on. She learned about resurrection, lichdom, reanimation, cloning. She searched for a way— _any_ way—to communicate with the Raven Queen directly, and pursued increasingly dark methods when she failed to find anything.

She spoke to several servants of the Raven Queen, all of whom outright refused to help her summon their goddess. Presumably, they took her for a necromancer as soon as she brought it up. One even made a point to tell her, “Lady, if you pursue this, it’s bound to kill you.”

_What if this kills you?_

This thought had occurred to her more than once. She had come so far, much farther than she’d expected to. Maybe, to some, she had come far enough. She knew the twins were alive, after all. She knew they were together, laughing happily and drinking tea somewhere. She knew they were healing, they were heroes, they were protected by at least three gods. She had even laid eyes on them, saw how beautiful they were. Maybe she should be satisfied with that.

But it had become increasingly clear to her that this journey was her life’s work. In the truest and most literal definition of the phrase. If continuing this journey killed her, so be it. She’d die and be with Dwyn again. And maybe, in death, she would finally know her children. If that was the only way to know all she could, she’d die. Gladly.

In many ways, this pursuit felt like the end of the road for her. The Raven Queen was her last shot at divine guidance. And if it failed—well, yet another reason to welcome death.

After months of searching, she finally came across a ritual that could work. It was risky, of course, the riskiest thing she’d ever done. It involved astral projecting her soul and offering herself to Death, either to be allowed back into her body or else reaped to the astral plane. But it didn’t even take Leema a full hour to consider it before she began gathering the necessary supplies.

 

It was midwinter by the time Leema felt prepared. She traveled north and began trekking up a remote mountainside where crows were known to roost year-round. Her journey was treacherous and slow through ten inches of snow, but she pushed forward, undeterred. Her bag of supplies slapped against her leg with every step, reminding her of the task at hand.

When she reached the right spot, the cold had so thoroughly gripped her that she could hardly feel herself shivering. But she knelt on the ground anyway, beside a cliff face that echoed with the calls of dozens of crows. She packed down a portion of the snow around her, then she lit candles and opened her spell book. A fresh, white lily had been placed in its pages, and Leema laid out the other supplies she’d need. When she was ready, she picked up a silver dagger and dragged it, quick and measured, across her palm.

Inhaling sharply, she picked up the lily with her bloodied hand, clenching it tightly in her fist. Droplets of blood dripped onto the spell book, the snow. Leema began reciting the incantation.

_Queen of Winter. Matron of Ravens, Raven of Crows._

Leema held her fist over one of the candles, letting her blood drip onto the flame. The flame sputtered and her blood sizzled, but the fire didn’t go out.

_I call upon thee as a chained child of Fate._

She placed fistfuls of raven feathers in each pocket of her cloak. The crowing around her grew louder. Then she uncorked a bottle of green liquid, obtained months earlier from a necromancer, and downed it in one swig. She had to move fast now.

_I offer you my bones as tools, my breath as fire._

She lied on her back in the snow, placing two gold coins over her eyes, an amethyst crystal on her chest. Her hand holding the lily had gone numb, and her whole body was beginning to feel heavy. The cawing of the crows was cacophonous now, completely drowning out her voice as she spoke the last line of the incantation.

_I offer you my beating heart to sing to._

And with that, Leema’s soul left her body.

It was a curious sensation, not too unlike drifting into a trance, except that she was instantly upright, her spectral form floating above the bloodied spell book. She glanced behind her to look at her body, and winced slightly to see that her lips were turning blue. She looked dead. And although she had accepted this as a possibility, she did not want to die without answers.

When she faced forward again, the largest bird she’d ever seen—a jet-black raven—was perched on a part of the cliff face that jutted out. The raven stared at her intensely.

 _What do you offer?_  it asked. It spoke with a voice like a door creaking closed, like the pitch and whine of a wolf song. The sound would have sent shivers down Leema’s spine, if she still had one.

“I…I need something first,” Leema answered, speaking quickly. “I summoned you, Raven Queen, because—”

 _Do you have an offering?_ the raven interrupted.

“Yes,” Leema said. “But only if I get something first—it’s a delayed offering, see, on the condition—”

The raven cocked its head to look at her with an angry, beady eye. _Not how this works, I’m afraid,_ it said. _What is your offering?_

“My soul,” Leema replied.

_I should just take that right now. You’re a fool if you think I couldn’t._

“I’m looking for information,” Leema tried to explain, but the raven beat its wings furiously against the rock, screeching to silence her.

 _Do you have any idea,_ the raven said, _what I do to people who summon me without an acceptable offering? You dare engage in necromancy without payment? I don’t make exchanges. I don’t barter with the living._ It spit out the words with real malice.

“I’m looking for my children,” Leema said desperately.

 _If they’re in the sea of souls, you’re about to find them,_ the raven said, and lowered its body as if it was about to launch itself toward her—

“You know them!” Leema said, raising her voice in a panic. “They’re lost to me, but Istus has led me to you. I was led to you by the gods, my Queen. I want information, that’s all! And once I’ve reached the end of my journey, my soul is yours. I promise you that.”

The raven paused. _Istus, you say?_

Leema nodded. “Yes. My children are named Taako and Lup.”

The raven tilted its head, then slumped a little and sighed. It was bizarre, seeing a raven so recognizably inconvenienced. _I don't have time for this,_ the raven snapped, and beat its wings in Leema’s direction once more. Leema felt herself slip, be pushed backwards and down to where it was unforgiving and cold.

And then she sat up, the coins falling off her eyes. She was back in her body. She pulled herself to her feet, looking around at the barren landscape surrounding her. Everything was still. Her body ached all over, and her hand holding the lily throbbed, but otherwise she appeared to be in one piece.

Suddenly, in a burst of smoke, a man materialized about fifteen feet away. He looked to be human: tall and broad, with black dreadlocks pulled back into a bun. His exposed skin was dark brown, except for a pale blotch near one eye that slightly resembled the outstretched wing of a bird. He was wearing a heavy cloak covered in black feathers, and he looked around, confused, before his eyes landed on Leema.

“Alright,” he said slowly, in a thick Cockney accent. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here, but okay. Fine.” He cleared his throat. “What’s your business with the Raven Queen?” he asked Leema.

“I’m trying to find my children,” Leema told him.

The man looked her up and down, taking in the scene. He looked at her bloody fist, still clenched around the lily. The candles, the still-open spell book, the coins, the empty vial of poison. He sighed heavily.

“Thought you’d find them via some light necromancy, did you?” he said. “Alright, listen up. Necromancy’s a _bad gig_. You can’t just _casually_  do a necromantic ritual in hopes of contacting your dead kids, miss.”

“My children aren’t dead,” Leema said. “They’re missing, and they know the Raven Queen.”

“Is that so,” the man said. He looked bored and a little irritated as he started opening a small pouch that was attached to his belt. “Who might your children be, then?”

“Taako and Lup,” Leema said.

At this, the man’s head snapped up to look at her. His eyes narrowed with an expression Leema couldn’t quite read. “What did you say?” he asked quietly.

“Taako and Lup are my children,” Leema said. “Taako is an emissary of Istus, who told me that Lup is sworn to the Raven Queen.”

The man’s eyes widened. He looked absolutely shellshocked now, staring at Leema, mouth agape. “Holy shit,” he said, without a trace of an accent in his voice.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [tumblr](https://keplercryptids.tumblr.com/)


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